The First Hospital of Dawn City.
Duke Garava lay in his hospital bed, gazing listlessly at the first streak of light creeping over the windowsill that morning. His pallid face resembled someone recovering from a serious illness.
These days, he had experienced whole nights of insomnia, and whenever he closed his eyes, nightmares would startle him awake soon after, drenching him in cold sweat.
He couldn't understand why.
Why had the trump card crafted by the Weilante People lost?
Even more incomprehensible was how they had lost to a mere force of just over five hundred.
"...technology?" he murmured with quivering lips. His eyes were murky, but a glimmer of realization seemed to flash within them.
The malady that the court doctors couldn't cure seemed treatable here, with someone mentioning it was due to some sort of technology and techniques.
